25 Days of One-Shots
by BookishGray
Summary: 25 Christmas one-shots about my OTP, ranging in topics from getting a Christmas tree to hiding presents to just snuggling by the fireplace with hot cocoa. Mostly fluff and cuteness. Warning: feels-inducing level of Destiel. Rated T for Dean's occasional colorful language.
1. Day 1

**Day 1: Decorating the House**

* * *

Dean was so persistent. Castiel didn't even know why, but Dean absolutely _insisted _they decorate the bunker for Christmas.

"I do not see the point, Dean. We have very pressing matters to attend to, and Sam has informed me that you didn't even like Christmas untilrecently," Castiel protested as Dean pouted in the sitting room. "Plus, most traditional 'Christmas' celebrations actually come from–"

"Cas, just shut up and come with me to go and get decorations," Dean interrupted his best friend. He was already standing up and walking toward the garage door, Impala keys in hand. Cas sighed. Despite everything that told him not to, Castiel followed at Dean's heels.

* * *

The department store was filled with early Christmas shoppers. Women chatted and marveled at new clothing items; men raced their carts to the jewelry sections, each determined to remember their wives' presents this year; children laughed and chased each other around the toy aisles, shooting Nerf guns and gawking over Barbie dolls.

Dean and Cas were the only ones looking for decorations. Castiel continued to observe the "holiday-drunk white-picket-fencers" (as Dean put it) as his friend stocked up on tinsel, tree ornaments, streamers, little pieces of nativity sets, eggnog-scented candles and all the other knickknacks associatedwith the holiday.

"My brethren and I spent every Christmas at the temples of the Lord, worshipping. Your human traditions are quite different," Cas remarked as the humans blurred by in front of him. It was all so much to take in.

"Well, not all of us were there to witness the actual First Noel, angel," Dean replied sarcastically.

"I suppose not." Castiel paused before asking, "Dean?"

The hunter didn't look up, but hummed in response, "Hmm?"

"Why have we not celebrated Christmas like this before, the three of us?" Cas tilted his head to the side in that signature way of his. Dean would never, _ever _admit it out loud, but he found it almost endearing. And the angel didn't even know what he was doing.

"Because..." Dean inhaled, not knowing what to say. It was a good question, but... he wasn't even sure of the answer himself. Cas waited for an answer. "Because a bunch of crazy crap went down this year. Because I became a demon and you lost your grace, but we took down both Metatronand Abaddon. So why not, I dunno, celebrate a little with the ones we love?"

Castiel nodded thoughtfully. When he opened his mouth to speak, Dean thought he might say something sweet or profound. Instead, he said, "Most of the ones we love are gone."

Dean visibly bristled. Even Cas could tell. Okay, yeah, that was true. Bobby was in heaven, Kevin's ghost was probably still with his mom, Charlie was still in Oz with Dorothy, and God only knows what happened to Chuck.

"I have Sam," Dean countered, "I have you. You know, Team Free Will back at it again: the Ex-Demon, the Wingless Angel and the Sane One." Cas smiled at Dean's comment.

"I guess you're right," the angel agreed.

The checkout line was long and loud. By the time the pair were actually in front, they'd been waiting for fifteen minutes. Much to Dean's displeasure and Cas' intrigue, the clerk made polite conversation as she worked: where were they from? She hadn't seen them around much. Were they visiting family? How long would they be in town? Dean made up short, curt lies to cover every question: they were moving into a small apartment building downtown, were new to the area and travelled around a lot for work.

"Oh, and all new Christmas decorations! How exciting! Is this your first Christmas together?" the woman inquired, winking jokingly at Cas.

Dean started to answer something along the lines of, "No, we're not _together_ together!" but Castiel interrupted him, narrowed his eyes and replied, "Of course not. Dean and I have been with one another for five years." The clerk giggled and told them she was happy for them. "There's a match out there for everyone, I guess," she mused cheerfully. Cas seemed confused by her response, and even more confused by Dean's flustered words and mortified expression. As soon as they paid for their items, Dean took Cas by the back collar of his trench coat and _pulled_ him out of the store.

"Dean, I can walk well enough on my own, thank you," Cas complained.

"Maybe, but apparently you can't talk worth crap. Let's go put some decorations up."

* * *

After unloading the decorations from the car to the bunker, Dean and Cas - now joined by Sam - got to work decorating. Sam was able to hang the twinkling string of lights in high places, Castiel's angel strength helped him heave the heavier objects around, and Dean adjusted little details, lighting candles and throwing tinsel around. He even hung three separate stockings above the library's fireplace: a blue one decorated with angels, a redwith antlers and hoof tracks sewed onto it, and a green one with candy canes and apple pie embroidered on it.

"Actually," Cas pointed out as Dean set up the nativity scene, "Joseph stood a little farther to the–"

"Cas, we talked about this. Not all of us witnessed the coming of Christ." The angel stayed silent.

Once they finished, the boys stood back and looked upon their work.

"I've always wanted to do this," Dean admitted under his breath.

"Really?" Sam asked, looking down at his brother in confusion. "I thought you said you hated Christmas."

"Yeah, well, we didn't have an actual home to 'come home for Christmas' to back then." He slapped his brother's back lovingly. "Then we inherited the best house a hunter could ask for."

"I still don't understand," Castiel piped up, gingerly fingering the lights hung on the walls, "but it is quitebeautiful."

"You're staying, right?" Dean asked, turning to his best friend. "You're not just gonna... zap outta here?"

"I can't fly, Dean," Cas reminded him. "But I don't think I would if I could." Dean scoffed in a kind of 'You're such a dork' way, and smirked. Sam looked around and cleared his throat.

"Uh, you guys didn't pick up any... I dunno, mistletoe while you were out, did you?" Sam inquired. Dean crinkled his nose.

"No."

"Oh." Sam paused, then grabbed the Impala keys. "I'll be right back, then."

* * *

**A/N: Hiya! So as I said in the description, this is based off the Tumblr prompt: Christmas OTP Challenge. My OTP is Destiel (sorrynotsorry), and I know this chapter isn't super fluffy and obvious, but I was just testing the waters as this is my first SPN fic. Suggestions/comments/criticism? Should I continue? If so, I'll try to have a chapter up for every day I can. Thanks for reading!**

**~Gray**


	2. One-Day Hiatus

**Day 2: Day of Hiatus**

* * *

Sorry, guys. I'm gonna have to skip today since I have oodles of homework and studying to take care of, plus a couple other stories to catch up on. Day 3 will be up for sure tomorrow. Thanks for understanding and waiting. Goodnight!

~Gray


	3. Day 3

**Day 3: Snuggling by the Fireplace**

**(with Hot Cocoa)**

* * *

(This part is an slightly AU piece in Season 9, in which Ezekiel/Gadreel let Cas stay in the bunker instead of making him leave. Human!Cas fun!)

* * *

"Scooch." Dean shoved his former angel aside, holding two mugs. Sam went to bed two or three hours ago. Thankfully, Dean was able to convince Ezekiel to let Castiel stay a while longer; the poor guy was practically family and he had nowhere to go.

"Dean, there is another chair right there," Cas remarked and pointed to an armchair adjacent to his own. Despite his protests, he moved over anyway, just enough to let the hunter sit down next to him. Dean dropped into the recliner in front of the library's lit fireplace, half-crushing Castiel in the process.

"It's too cold over there; this one's much closer to the fireplace," Dean counter argued. Cas pressed his lips into a firm line, and didn't reply. "Do you want this or not?" Dean offered, holding out one of the steaming mugs to his friend.

Cas accepted the cup and looked down at the liquid inside curiously. "Thank you, but... what is it?"

Dean, who had just taken a swig of his own mug, choked and sputtered on his drink. "You've been human this long and still haven't heard of hot chocolate? At Christmas time?" Castiel shook his head, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed in that trademark way of his, head slightly cocked to the right.

"Well," Dean explained, gesturing for Cas to take a sip of his hot cocoa, which he hesitantly did, "It's a drink, hot like coffee, but sweet. It's basically heated up milk and melted chocolate." Castiel lowered the cup from his lips, leaving a line of creamy-brown liquid on his top lip.

"Hmm," he hummed in approval, "I think I like it; I did, after all, take quite a liking to coffee since my coming to Earth. I suppose this is just as good." Dean smirked and bit back a laugh.

"That's good, Cas, but here: lemme help you." He reached out his thumb and wiped the chocolate off of Cas' lip. Dean couldn't help but laugh. The angel's (no, former angel's, dang it!) eyes were so innocent and child-like that it was comical.

"Oh, erm, thank you, Dean."

Castiel figeted uncomfortably, squished between the leather arm of the chair and Dean's body. The hunter snickered. "You okay, man?"

Cas struggled to adjust himself. He pressed himself closer to the arm of the chair, but it didn't solve much. "No," he answered candidly. Dean hooked his arm under Cas' knees and shifted them over his own, so Castiel was sitting diagonally on his lap.

"Better?" Dean asked, expression smug. Castiel looked down and adjusted his legs awkwardly, but nodded anyway. At least he wasn't being compressed against the chair any longer. He took a long sip of hot chocolate, making sure to wipe away his 'chocolate mustache' afterwards. There was a while where neither said a word, just focused on the fire in front of them.

"Human sensory... befuddles me, Dean," Castiel finally spoke up.

"Hmm? Hasn't it always?" Dean retorted, still staring at the dancing flames.

"Well, yes. But I was not human myself then. Now I understand what humanity is like, and I understand that your pain is much beyond an angel's conception of it - the emotional duress, the physical torture. I don't know how to deal with it all."

"Don't be too optimistic, Cas," Dean muttered sarcastically, "You might let yourself down."

Castiel stiffened. "You didn't let me finish. Humans experience much suffering. But you make up for it in joy, in pleasure. When I was an angel, touch, taste, smells, and emotions, they were all different - muted, if you would," Cas elaborated. "Now, I know true heartbreak, anguish and hopelessness, but also joy and elation. This," he held his mug close to his lips, "tastes like a whole object; one sweet, satisfying being. And it smells like chocolate, not just floating sugar molecules. And this especially..." Castiel laid his head on Dean's chest, causing the hunter to jump, almost flinch. "This feels comforting, natural."

Dean's heart pounded incredibly fast, and he was sure Cas could hear it or feel it somehow. Why not taking advantage of it? He looped one arm around Cas' waist and the other rested on his knee, mug still in hand. When Castiel didn't react negatively, Dean gingerly let his chin rest on the top of his head, Cas' hair brushing up against the crook of Dean's neck.

Neither the hunter nor the angel spoke for a long time. They both finished off their drinks, but they didn't dare move to put their cups away; breaking the closeness might kill them both.

Cas couldn't help but observe the tiniest things about his now-human body. For instance, Dean's warmth radiated in comfortable waves onto him, and in some ways Dean kept him heated better than the fire did. Temperature was not something he worried about before - he could control, like everything else, his body temperature as he pleased - but now he found the cold was the one thing he hated most about humanity. Of course, Dean would be able to fix that from now on.

Castiel also realized that his pulse speed varied, always dependant upon his emotions. If he were to be angry, frightened, excited or nervous, his pulse sped up considerably. If he experienced sadness or relaxation, however, his pulse would beat at the same steady rate. Humans were much more peculiar than he had once believed.

Before long, Dean's breathing evened, and he stilled completely. Castiel knew this meant he had fallen asleep. Sleep, now there was an interesting subject. Sleep was hard to do, ironically, for how relaxing it was supposed to be. How does one just… let go of consciousness? What did Dean do?

Well, he was still for a long while; his eyes were shut, Cas assumed; he didn't speak or make noise, in fact, wheneverDean was trying to sleep before, he always requested it to be quiet. Cas fulfilled all these things. Then again, Dean's mind probably wasn't racing or too deep in thought. Maybe that's what he ought to do: stop worrying, focus on his surroundings.

Cas let himself relax into Dean's arms and he let go of any anxiety he previously had. He simply thought about Dean: Dean's voice, Dean's eyes, Dean's touch. That soothed him, that always had. Ever since he laid eyes on the human, down in Hell, he knew there was something different about him. He thought it intriguing at the time; then he believed it to be dangerous, to him, to the angels. Over time, he realized it was not either of those things, but more relieving and refreshing, something that could change his life for the better. He did, Cas knew, Dean changed his life like no other could.

The angel-turned-man let out a final sigh and became limp, sleep taking him right there in Dean's embrace. He hadn't slept that well through the entirety of his time as a human. Believe it or not, he dreamed of Dean.

* * *

Sam couldn't find his brother. Sam couldn't find Cas. He crossed his fingers and prayed to every angel he could name that it meant what he thought it did. The library was the last room to check, and when he poked his head it, it did not disappoint. In the far corner were Dean and his angel, all snuggled up and sleeping.

"Finally!" he whispered. "Kevin owes me ten bucks." He gently tip-toed into the room, took the boys' mugs from their loose grips, and was about to leave when a soft, gruff voice called him back.

"Sammy," Dean whispered. Sam turned back to his brother, a knowing smirk on his face.

"Yeah, Dean?"

"You and Kevin can go screw yourselves." Sam had to bite his cheeks in order to hold back a laugh, hoping not to wake Cas, who was still asleep on Dean's lap. Oh yeah, Kevin would _definitely_ hear about this...


	4. Day 4

**Day 4: Wrapping Presents**

* * *

It wasn't working. Tape was frustrating to say the least. And the wrapping paper was too fragile for the capacity of my strength. I kept messing up the gifts Dean and I were wrapping no wonder what I did. I even tried using a bit of my draining Grace to wrap one of Sam's gifts. It caught on fire.

I thought it must have been for that reason that Dean insisted his help me wrap them.

"I... I can figure it out," I defended myself, simultaneously ripping yet another piece of the antler-themed wrapping paper. Dean assured me Sam would love it.

"Cas, you're gonna use up that whole roll if you're not careful. Just let me show you how," Dean persisted, taking the box from my possession. I unintentionally made an expression that Dean refered to as "pouting" and watched as he folded the paper over and over, taping it down in perfect form.

"If you did not celebrate the traditional human Christmas as a child, how did you learn to do that?" I inquired. The gift was perfect; better than even an angel could accomplish.

Dean's face shifted into a nostalgic tone, something I did not recieve the pleasure of seeing often. "Mom taught me how when I was little, and I was the only one around to wrap Sammy's presents when we got older." He shrugged. "Practice makes perfect?"

I inspected his finished product thoroughly, flipping it this way and that, memorizing every step. "I suppose."

"So... You want me to help you out with the next one?" Dean suggested, sliding closer.

"If you believe I need it," I answered. A flash of what I believe to be joy flickered in Dean's eyes for a brief second. He smiled. He doesn't do that often.

He took another cardboard box from the other side of the table and set it in front of us. He then took a different roll of wrapping paper and spread it out underneath the box, measuring it to the correct length.

"Okay, now take this," Dean led my left hand to the corresponding side of the box and urged me to pick up the flap of paper there. He led it up to the top of the box, still pulling my hand under his. He taped the paper down. The following minutes consisted of the same actions until the box was completely wrapped.

"What is inside the gift, Dean? And who is it to?" I questioned.

"It's three Pop! figurines from the Supernatural book series: you, me and Sam. Someone thought it would be a good idea to make mini versions of us to buy apparently." Dean snorted. "I'm leaving it by the front door for Charlie. According to her last letter, the chick is popping back into reality for a while next week, and I told her we'd get her a gift."

"Ah, yes. And Sam's gift?"

"Flannel shirts. Plaid. Have you noticed how often he wears those?"

I shook my head. "I do not often take heed to human attire."

Dean chuckled. "Well, that's obvious. The only change in your wardrobe in five years was when you put on a Gas'n'Sip vest for a week or two."

"I was under the assumption that you were quite fond of my overcoat," I replied.

"Where would that assumption come from?"

Then I said four words that forced him to fall silent for a good while: "Because you kept it." Dean's playful air evaporated and he returned to his task of wrapping presents immediately. He had a small package of Kevin's old belongings to send to Mrs. Tran. As far as we knew, Kevin's spirit was still with her. Dean made mention that he may be bored "so why not give him his old 'Advanced Placement' stuff back?"

"Dean?" I called after a time. My hunter merely grunted in response. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No."

"Then why aren't you speaking?"

"It really doesn't matter, Cas."

"It really does." Dean scoffed.

"Maybe the problem is that you just talk too much," he told me.

I began, "I apologize if my speech tendencies are–" Before I could finish, Dean took a piece of Scotch tape and stuck it vertically across my lips, effectively silencing me.

"That's better." He winked. I furrowed my eyebrows and raised my hand to take the tape away, but Dean stopped me, catching my hands. "Nuh-uh," he chided me. "I like quiet Cas better."

A quick smile that could only be described as a smirk pulled at the corners of my lips. With the snap of my fingers and a flash of light, the tape had transferred from my lips to Dean's. He also sported a red bow on his head. He hummed a question, reaching for his mouth and hair simultaneously.

He ripped the tape from his mouth, inhaling deeply. "Real mature," he muttered.

"In actuality, I considered our actions to be quite childish..." I took in the so-called 'bitch-face' he was shooting me. "Oh. That was sarcasm. In that case, I could say the same to you."

"Well, thanks to you, my lips are all chapped now," Dean argued, pressing down on his mouth gently with his index and middle fingers. I opened my mouth to speak, but he cut me off. "And don't just say, 'so are mine,' because yours are always chapped, you arrogant douche."

"I was merely going to say that I enjoy the tradition of gift-wrapping, and I believe we should continue," I explained.

"Yeah, yeah, later," Dean murmured.

"Later? But Sam will be back soon," I said, gesturing confusedly to the wrapping supplies in front of us.

"Yeah, I know. We can find another time. Right now, my lips are seriously chapped and I only have one way to solve it." Before I quite knew what was going on, I was being pulled forward by my coat lapels. I must admit, as much as I enjoyed wrapping Christmas presents, there were better ways to spend alone time with Dean. Kissing him, for instance.

* * *

**By the by, I just wanted to pop in, say hello, merry Christmas, and thanks for the all support you guys are giving. It means a lot :3**

**See you tomorrow,**

**~Gray**


	5. Days 5 and 6

**Days 5 &amp; 6: Getting a Christmas Tree**

* * *

At Christmas time, human households often bring small evergreen trees into their houses. These trees are subsequently adorned with various ornaments and lights and are used to shelter the Christmas gifts. Many people, not even understanding Christmas, worship the vain, little shrub more than they worship the birth of Jesus Christ. At least, that's what Cas picked up from it.

Dean Winchester was no exception. He dragged Sam and Cas into the Impala to haul one home.

"Dean, I could just as easily fly us there and back," Castiel suggested.

"Are you _trying _to take the fun out of it? I've never done this before! We've gotta do it like normal people, just once." Sam chuckled and agreed. Castiel sighed, relenting. Within a minute, they were on the road.

"Bobby's never gonna let you set that tree up in his house," Sam remarked.

Dean scoffed. "Bobby won't care! Bobby loves spending Christmas with us! Remember the winter of '89? We almost set his house on fire by throwing our eggnog in the fireplace." The hunters both grinned, recalling their memory. Cas didn't find it all that amusing, but let his friends have their moment of joy nonetheless.

In ten minutes, the three of them were stepping out onto the snow-covered gravel in a nursery. An arrow-shaped sign near a large greenhouse pointed toward the back of the property and read "_Christmas Trees" _in green and red letters. The boys followed the sign, that is, after picking up a hand saw and a cart from a very cheerful employee.

In the back, there was a huge array of Christmas trees, in rows of 50 and columns of 75. Every one of them varied in type, size and color. The choice for a single tree was almost overwhelming.

"So... Where do you wanna start?" Sam asked, looking toward his brother.

"What about there?" Dean pointed toward the mass of trees unspecifically.

"Dean, it would help to be a little more clear," Sam muttered sarcastically. Dean scoffed and shook his head.

"I'll just show you. C'mon!" he gestured to the other two and ran off into the thick array of trees.

"Dude!" Sam called out, but Dean was already long gone. The younger Winchester turned to Castiel. "We better run after him, huh?" Cas nodded. The duo jogged through the rows, still unable to find Dean.

"Dean?" Sam put his hands to his mouth to amplify his voice. "Dean!" He scowled. Surely, his brother wouldn't just run off like that. Dean was planning something. Sam ventured slightly farther through the rows. How many, he didn't keep track.

"Okay, this isn't funny anymore, man! Where the hell are you?" The only response he earned came from the rustling tree leaves. Sam crinkled his nose as he turned around, but his face fell when he realized Cas was no longer behind him. Dammit.

* * *

"Sam? Dean?" Cas called out, eyes narrowing. No response. How far had the three of them wandered apart?

Something rustled off to his left. Castiel turned his head on instinct, analyzing the spot where the tree branches were still bouncing. The wall of trees was too thick to see through. _I'll never find them in this labyrinth,_ Cas thought.

Something else moved, now behind him. Cas spun around, suddenly on alert. His angel blade appeared in his hand in an instant.

"Hello? Sam? Dean?" The tree did not reply. Cas lowered his guard just long enough to allow someone to tackle him from behind. His assailant grunted and shoved downward on his shoulders. The angel twisted at the last moment before he hit the ground, resulting with him kneeling above his attacker, blade still in hand.

Dean laughed and said, "Whoa-o-o, Cas. It's just me."

"Dean," Cas addressed the hunter, "You startled me." He stood, helping his friend up.

"I figured that out on my own, but thanks anyway, Sherlock." Dean patted Cas' back and brushed the snow off his own shoulders.

"Where is Sam?"

"Heck, I dunno. Probably somewhere in the back, looking for us." Dean shrugged.

Cas cocked his head, slightly resembling a confused puppy. "Shouldn't we look for him? And retrieve our tree?"

"I already picked a few out," Dean waved off his friend's suggestion. "Sammy won't care. I'll let him make the final decision. As for right now," Dean paused and smirked. His expression turned impish. "We have some alone time."


	6. Days 7 and 8

**Days 7 &amp; 8: Mistletoe**

* * *

"There you are!" I yelled. Sam walked in the door casually and shut it softly behind him. It would have been normal enough, sure, except for the fact that his right hand was hidden behind his back. "Where have you been?"

"Relax, Dean, I was just at the store."

"Getting what?"

"An extra Christmas decoration."

"What extra Christmas decoration?" Sam scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Do I suddenly need a babysitter? C'mon, man, what's the big deal?" I was just about to demand he tell me what he meant when a clatter arose from deeper inside the bunker.

"You stay," I called to my younger brother as I backed out of the room. What did Cas do this time?

In a spare bedroom, my angel appeared. What he hadn't accounted for was the abundance of gift boxes and paper crowded over the floors. Several piles of empty cardboard boxes tumbled to the ground.

Upon my entrance, Castiel looked up at me. "I... I didn't... My apologies," he murmured.

I had to fight a grin. "It's... It's fine, Cas. What are you doing here?"

"I felt it necessary to 'drop in' as you might put it. Christmas is merely 17 days away. Heaven is too hectic with excitement at this time of year," Cas explained, taking a step closer. So the guy was in my personal bubble of space; so what? He's an angel, he doesn't get it (even after five years), okay?

"Oh, yeah," I replied sarcastically, "I'm sure all those Halos are just bursting with fun right now."

"Of course," Cas furrowed his eyebrows in befuddlement. "Christmas is our most joyous time."

I couldn't help but chuckle. "I'm sure it is. Now, come on. Do you wanna grab a bite before you zap off again?"

"I do not require food, Dean," Cas reminded me. I played it off like I knew that, but to be honest, I forget all the time. He's a little weird, yeah, but I've gotten used to it; he's practically human now, at least to me.

"I know… humor me." Cas reluctantly agreed and followed me out of the room. We were just entering the kitchen when Sam, now leaning against the countertop, cleared his throat and gestured above our heads, to the doorframe. A single sprig of mistletoe was hastily taped to it. God dammit, Sammy. I glared at my brother with my best bitchface. If looks could kill, I would have already shot him dead.

"Dean, is that…?" Cas began.

"Yes. It is." Sam smirked at me and excused himself from the room. Son of a bitch.

"I have heard that the tradition with mistletoe is that—"

"Cas, seriously, just shut the hell up right now. Don't make this any more awkward than it needs to be," I muttered, looking anywhere but at him. I can't... _kiss_ an angel... can I? I don't even think that's allowed.

"I do not understand; why is such an intimate tradition associated with a leaf whose name translates to 'dung plant'?" Cas asked, staring up at the mistletoe.

I scolded, "Dude!" and the angel shrunk down a bit.

He cleared his throat. "...Apologies."

We must have stood there for another twenty seconds before Sam called from the library, "You two aren't off the hook until you kiss!" I made a mental note to smother him to death in his sleep.

I didn't know quite how to go about it. I'd kissed tons of people, but I'd never kissed _Cas! _I was just starting to muster up some real courage when Castiel grabbed me by the shirt collar and pulled me closer to him violently, my lips smashing into his. And I have to admit, I was not complaining. For how inexperienced I expected him to be, the angel was a pretty good kisser.

My left hand somehow found its way to his waist, my right tangling itself in his hair. One of Cas' hands still gripped my flannel shirt, the other was loosely strewn around my neck.

I broke it off for air (Cas acted like he could keep going for ages longer; do angels need to breathe?). Cas' electric blue eyes were narrowed in a silent question.

"Yes," I confirmed for him, "That was… erm, that was good." A flicker of joy flashed over my angel's features, causing the corners of his lips to quirk up for a split second.

"I renounce my previous thoughts on the mistletoe," Cas announced, pressing his forehead into the crook of my neck. "I believe I find it most satisfactory."


	7. Days 9 and 10

**Days 9 &amp; 10: Wearing Ugly Christmas Jumpers**

* * *

_(An AU Christmas Party in which all of Team Free Will's friends are still here. In this chapter, Dean learns the true meaning of Christmas... And shipping.)_

* * *

His trenchcoat was quite satisfactory on his terms. Clothes, fashion, style, it held little value in his mind, so he never felt the need to change his attire. Ever.

So when Sam mentioned planning an 'Ugly Sweater Party', Castiel wasn't much in favor of either direction. Dean and Bobby were completely against it, but Sam was adamant and Cas didn't see why not. The younger Winchester won out eventually, and he got to work writing up invitations. In a few hours, all of the guests had R.S.V.P.'d and Charlie even offered to make the boys' sweaters for them.

It would be a long night for sure...

"Hey, Charlie," Sam greeted his red-headed friend as she burst through Bobby's front door.

"Hey, you!" she replied. She went to give Sam a hug, but deposited the box full of knitted sweaters on the table first. Dean poked his head into the kitchen.

"I smell food and yarn. Charlie's here," he deduced, waltzing in with his usual bow-legged swagger. "Heya, kid," he said, pulling her into a hug.

"Hi, Dean." She pulled away to pull out four sweaters from her box, along with a plate of tiny cookies. "Okay, these are for you guys - I'm sure you can figure out whose is whose - and the cookies are for the party. The Munchkins baked them. They wanted us to bring some of Oz back to the 'outside world'." She smiled.

"So where's Dorothy?" Sam asked.

"Oh, she's coming later. You know, it's funny. I never anticipated I'd ever meet my childhood favorite fictional character... Or that she'd be so badass," Charlie added, so quiet it was almost under her breath. The boys laughed.

"Alright, let's see your sweater now," Sam prompted, offering out his hand to take her jacket. Charlie slipped it off and handed it to him. Underneath was a gold and maroon striped sweater with a big, yellow letter C on the front. Dean stared at it, confused for a second as Sam flashed her a grin and a thumbs-up.

"Is this another nerd thing? Do I even wanna know?" Dean asked. Sam and Charlie both turned to him and snapped, "Harry Potter is not a 'nerd thing'!"

Dean shook his head. "I rest my case." The noise had apparently gained the attention of Castiel and Bobby, who ambled into the kitchen from the living room.

"Is this the famous Charlie Bradbury?" Bobby inquired gruffly, taking her hand and shaking it.

"I am." She looked to the angel in a trenchcoat behind the other hunters. "You're Cas?" she assumed. He nodded and shook her hand as well.

"Those eyes," Charlie murmured to Dean when the others focused on their sweaters, "I was right; he's just as dreamy as I imagined."

Dean raised his eyebrows, but didn't have the chance to response before Sam laughed and said, "Dude, check this out." His brother held up a royal blue sweater with a steaming pie embroidered onto it. Dean crinkled his nose in disapproval, but slipped it over his head nonetheless.

Sam's was almost too long (apparently Charlie overestimated his height) and was stitched with moose tracks. It came with a set of handmade antlers on a headband that Dean forced onto him. Bobby's was a green sweater with a mustang car and a devil's trap on the front.

Cas was the last to put his on. He simply stared the light blue fabric in his hands. "Well, put it on then," Bobby urged him. The angel laid his trenchcoat on the table, but didn't take his suit jacket off before he attempted to put his jumper on, struggling to do so.

"No, Cas... Lemme help you." Dean stepped forward, grinning. He slid the blazer over Castiel's shoulders and helped him navigate his way through the sweater. When the angel's garment was properly situated, Cas thoroughly inspected it:

It was baby blue in color, and had the outline of the angel playing a horn on the front, and had a pair of white wings embroidered into the back. Dean snorted in amusement at the sight of it.

He turned back to the other three, who were all staring at him with knowing glances. "What?"

"Nothing," the rest answered in unison.

* * *

The party went just as planned. Everyone came and went: Charlie, Dorothy (and her dog Toto who was not nearly as small as he was in the books), Chuck, Garth, Kevin, Jo, Ellen, Jodi and even Gabriel and Balthazar showed up. With a little bit of music and a lot of alcohol, things turned fun pretty fast.

Gabriel wore a golden sweater with images of candy sewn into it; Chuck's sweater had a book on the front. Dean thought it might represent his writing the Supernatural books, but it also resembled the Bible for whatever reason. Balthazar's sweater was tawny-beige and was stiched with little bottles of eggnog and wine; Garth's jumper was covered in crazy colors and patterns; Kevin's sweater depicted a snowman playing a violin; Jodi wore her Sheriff jacket over her Christmas tree-patterned sweater; On the sweater belonging to Dorothy was the skyline of a shining green city with a yellow road leading up to it; Ellen's sweater showed a picture of Santa with a shotgun and Jo's was a simple red sweater with wrapped presents stitched into it.

It was a true Ugly Sweater Party.

Old friendships were revisited, new ones were made, and everyone had a fairly good time. Even Dean did. That was, until things turned for the worst...

Dean ran out of eggnog. Dean ran out of eggnog and nobody would get up to get him some more, so he had to get some himself.

Scowling, the hunter stood from his chair in the living room and walked to the kitchen calling, "Nobody take my seat!" over his shoulder as he went.

"No promises, Dean-o!" Gabriel replied, smirking. Of course, as soon as Dean left the room, the archangel plopped into his chair. A candy cane appeared in his hand, which he bit into ferverously. "Man, I was tired of standing," he muttered. Every other seat was taken.

When Dean reappeared, new glass of eggnog in his hand, his face fell. There was nowhere to sit. Gabriel stuck his tongue out at him like the thousand-year-old toddler he was, and Dean rolled his eyes in response.

"Great," Dean muttered under his breath."Now what do I do?" Castiel looked up from his conversation with Charlie.

"You could take my seat, Dean," he offered and began to stand, but Dean waved him off.

"Nah, it's alright, Cas. I'll just go find another chair from the basement."

"I do not require to rest often, Dean, I could easily–"

"Seriously, you're fine where you are. You don't have to do that."

Balthazar made a show of scoffing and rolling his eyes dramatically. "Oh, please. You two are killing me. Just _share_ a seat already!"

Dean's ears turned red and his fists clenched. A few snickers were drawn from Sam, Gabriel and Ellen. Charlie, Jo and Dorothy both grinned at each other as if it were an inside joke. Cas between his friends, unsure what everyone was so amused by. Of course he and Dean couldn't share a seat. Dean valued his 'personal space' far too much, he learned.

"What are you all...?" Cas began to ask, but Gabriel held up his hand to interrupt him.

"Lemme help you out here, brother," Gabriel said. He snapped his fingers and Dean vanished from the middle of the living room... and onto Cas' lap.

"Gabe," Sam chided, but it was obvious he was still trying to stifle a laugh. Dean didn't know why the hell Sam called the Trickster 'Gabe', but then again, that eggnog _was_ pretty spiked... Maybe that was everyone's problem. Maybe everybody was drunk. Damn, everyone was tipsy but him; there's a first for everything, he guessed.

Charlie exhaled loudly. "Well, at least I'm not the only one that ships you two."

Dean shot her a puzzled glance, squirming in his angel's lap. "Uh... ship?"

"It's short for 'relationship'. It's like when there's two characters that you really want to get together." Dean choked on his eggnog.

"But Dean and I have been together for five years already," Cas remarked, furrowing his brows. Everyone, even Bobby, laughed. It only left Castiel even more bewildered.

"Yeah, Dean. Remember that play that girls' school did on us? And the subtext?" Sam said through uneven giggles.

"Ooh! Play? I want details!" Garth leaned forward out of intrigue.

"Oh-o-o!" Chuck remembered and laughed. "I saw that! Not bad. I'm glad _someone_ finally read between the lines in my books!"

"There was no subtext!" Dean insisted, struggling to look intimidating whilst seated on Cas' lap.

"Boy, when the damn author of a book says there's somethin' between two characters, there probably is," Bobby chimed in. Dean felt ganged-up-on. Cas still felt confused.

"So there was this whole scene in the play about Dean and Cas the night before Dean got zapped into the future by Zachariah," Sam explained. "I'm serious, there was even a musical number about Cas waiting on the side of the street for Dean while he slept."

Jo asked, "Did that really happen?"

"Of course it did!" Charlie answered. "It was my favorite scene in Volume 5, Book 4: The End! Well, besides the part when I realized Future!Cas stuck with Future!Dean all those years during the apocalypse!"

_"You people are impossible!" _Dean shouted over his friends, but none of them seemed to be paying any attention.

"I... I think I now understand," Cas mumbled in Dean's ear. The hunter froze.

"You... do?"

"Yes. Although, I do not see much irritating with it."

"What? How?!"

"I always assumed we were quite close. I have also unintentionally inserted myself into a few of your dreams that I am uncomfortable mentioning in front of others," Castiel admitted. Dean couldn't believe what he was hearing.

He stood from Cas' lap, but grabbed hold of the angel's arm as he did. Castiel was pulled up with him. "You know what? I don't need this. Cas and I are going upstairs. Goodnight."

As Dean stormed off (dragging a stumbling Castiel behind him), Balthazar called, "Remember: Nephilims are illegal!"

"I don't think Dean very carefully inspected the back of the sweater I made him," Charlie observed when Cas and Dean were out of earshot.

"Yeah, I made sure he didn't," Sam replied, winking. "I just shoved it onto him."

"And it's a good thing, too," Ellen joked, "He never woulda put on a sweater with _'Property of Castiel'_ written on the back."


	8. Day 11

Day** 11: Cute Fireplace Scene… Again.**

* * *

_Dean has never seen Cas' wings, and that's simply because Cas never wanted him to. Sorry that this isn't as Chrismas-y as I wanted it to be, but I'm on limited time and running out of ideas. Plus this prompt was almost the same as before. Enjoy._

* * *

Castiel appeared (more like stumbled) into the bunker's library, sopping wet and covered in snow. Little flakes were tangled in his hair and eyelashes.

"Hello, Dean," he spoke through chattering teeth.

Dean, who was sitting in front if the fireplace with a beer, grinned. It had been weeks since he'd last seen Cas. His smile faded, though, when he realized how strange the angel was acting. He was shivering and he was having trouble moving.

"Hey... are you alright?" Dean asked, eyeing his boyfriend carefully.

"Of course. Just a little cold," Cas admitted, taking a seat next to Dean. He went to place his hand over Dean's, but the hunter jerked it away.

"Dude, you're freezing! Can't you control your body heat or something?"

Cas answered, "Under normal circumstances, yes. But it seems my wings were exposed to the snow. They don't seem to react positively to that..."

Dean shrugged. "Then just make them visible again. The fire can warm them up."

All-too-quickly, Castiel stammered, "N-no, I'm good the w-way I am, Dean. My wings need not be seen."

Dean narrowed his eyes. "Seen?"

"I meant warmed."

"Sure..." Dean responded, not convinced in the slightest. "But for the record," his arm slithered around Cas' waist and pulled him closer. "I would love to see your wings. I'm sure they're awesome."

"My wings do not invoke awe, Dean; my wings aren't as beautiful as others. All the angels think so," Cas snapped.

"Am I an angel?"

"Well... No."

"Do I have any reason to judge you?"

"No."

"Then why would you think I wouldn't like your wings?" Castiel sighed, relenting.

"Okay... I'll show you. Just do not... leave if they aren't as desirable as you believed."

Dean gave his angel a chaste peck on the forehead, then assured him, "There is nothing that would make me leave you, especially not something as cool as this. I mean, how many guys can say that their boyfriend has wings?"

"Not many."

"Exactly."

Cas sighed. "Alright." He stood, his back to the fire, and two enormous appendages sprouted from his back. They unfurled further to be a pair of 12-foot-long ebony wings. He grimaced as Dean inspected them.

"Cas... they're..."

"Black? Small? Unkempt? I know," Castiel finished for him. Dean laughed, a hollow sound that twinged Cas' stomach with every sound. He was right, he must hate them.

"Dude, no!" Dean replied, expelling Castiel's theories. "These are badass!"

"Not according to my brethren. We each have unique wings, each crafted carefully by our father. Gabriel, for instance, had three pairs, all golden and 20 feet long in his human form. In his true visage, he was double the size. Michael's were slightly longer and pure silver. Balthazar's were tawny and speckled brown. None have anything like mine," Cas explained.

"Don't you think it was that way for a reason? Maybe yours are different because you _are _different. You're the most human angel I know. Maybe you were always meant to rebel. Doesn't your dad have a plan for everything or something like that?"

"We destroyed his plan."

"We destroyed the _angels_' plan. There's a difference."

Cas stayed silent for a beat or two before asking, "Do you really think they're okay?"

"They're great." The angel smiled, such a rare occurrence that Dean actually felt proud for inciting it.

"Thank you, Dean."

Dean waved him off. "Don't just thank me; pay me back." A question formed on Castiel's lips, but melted away when Dean yanked him forward by the base of his wings and kissed him.

"I believe I have become much warmer now, thank you."

Dean smirked. "But that sure as hell doesn't mean I'm done with you."


	9. Day 12

**Day 12: Holiday Movies**

* * *

_"You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch," _Dean sang (completely out of key) as he did the dishes. It was his turn and he hated it, but at least Sam and Bobby didn't complain about his singing when he did; they didn't want to piss him off anymore if they finally got him to do a chore. _"You really are a heel. You're as cuddly as a cactus and as charming as an eel..."_

"Who is this 'Grinch' and why are you so derogatory towards him?" A gravelly voice rang out from behind Dean, causing him to nearly drop a semi-wet plate.

Dean turned around, finding a shorter man in a beige trenchcoat was innocently waiting for an answer. Fricking angels, man. "Cas, we've had this conversation. Don't sneak up on me like that." Castiel apologized quietly. Dean let out a small sigh. "Anyway, to answer your question, the Grinch is a guy from a kids' book and a movie who hates Christmas, so he tries to steal it."

Cas furrowed his eyebrows. "How does one steal a holiday?"

Dean snickered. "Ask Doctor Suess."

"Who?" Cas inquired. Dean paused, and set his plate and dishrag into the sink.

"Never mind. You know what? I think the best way to truly explain the Grinch would be to watch the movie with you," Dean decided.

"Are you just looking for a way out of your work?" Castiel raised his eyebrows accusingly.

"Damn straight, I am. Let's go watch a movie!" Dean ushered the angel out of the kitchen and into the living room, despite Cas' protests.

* * *

When the popcorn was ready, Sam and Bobby were safely asleep, and the movie was set up (the animated version; the Jim Carrey version was horrible, in Dean's opinion), Dean and Cas settled into the couch in front of the TV. Dean pressed 'play' and let the movie start...

Throughout the movie, Dean was... well... Dean was kind of bored. He'd seen _How the Grinch Stole Christmas_ so many times that he almost knew each line by heart; it was one of Sam's favorites as a kid. After the first few minutes, Dean found it to be deathly tedious, but Cas was enamoured. In fact, watching Cas eagerly follow the animations on the screen was more entertaining to Dean than the movie itself. Cas had never truly watched a movie, Dean realized, so he was seemingly hanging on every word the characters said, smiling at the good parts and gasping at the bad. Dean thought it to be sort of endearing.

_"And they say his heart grew three sizes that day.." _The Grinch then spent Christmas dinner with his new friends as the zoomed panned outward from Whoville and the movie ended. Dean turned the television off, and the room was completely covered in darkness.

"I think... I think I enjoyed this story," Cas said after a while, sliding closer to Dean on the couch, yet not able to see him without light.

"Well, that's good."

"Yes, and I also believe I can relate to this Grinch," Cas remarked. Dean stole a glance in the angel's direction despite his lack of vision. "The Grinch was a rude, surly being until a smaller, kinder Who took him off his high mountain and showed him humanity. Likewise, I was a, erm, grumpy soul - as many have called me - who was obediently cooped up in Heaven until a certain human showed me how to love. And then my heart grew large enough to accommodate my newfound humanity; three sizes bigger."

Dean stifled a laugh. "That's, uh, that's pretty deep for a Christmas movie."

"I suppose so. But you should understand. You were my Cindy Lou Who." Dean took a moment to process Cas' words.

"So I... taught you to," Dean choked out the last word, "_love?" Does Cas even mean it.. __**that**_ _way? _Dean wondered silently.

"Of course. And I do mean it that way. Is that not acceptable?" Oh dear Jesus, Cas heard that. Stupid prayers.

Dean was grateful for the darkness, otherwise the redness in his cheeks would have been much more visible.

"Well, that's, uh, that's good, Cas."

"Dean, are you alright?"

Dean stood from the couch. "Yeah, yeah, 'course. I'm just gonna–gonna go to bed." Flustered and confused, Dean stumbled through the dark to the staircase. "G'night, Cas!" He tripped three times on the way up the stairs. The whole time, Cas heard him fumbling around and cursing at various inanimate objects, and his face contorted into an expression of vague amusement. Humans were so strange...

As Dean lay in bed that night, only one though circulated through his head: We are _never_ watching Christmas movies again!

* * *

**Gah! I'm trying to keep up, seriously, guys. But I'm soooo booked right now. Because of that, my chapters are getting way short and my writing is less detailed. Sorry :( After the 19th, I'm off on break, so I'll be able to put more time in then. Until tomorrow!**

**-Gray**


	10. Day 13

**Day 13: Nativity Pageant**

* * *

_Longer. Much longer. Sorry I went overboard. I just really wanted to make this scene different. Also, this was not the original Day 13, but I really wanted to include this one. So yeah. Sam, Cas, and Dean attend a nativity play at the local church._

* * *

Lebanon, Kansas, was a small town, not any bigger than Lawrence where Sam and Dean were born (but not quite raised). To get back to such a small setting was not quite familiar, but not quite foreign. Both Winchesters had to admit: the bunker was placed in a fairly comfortable setting.

That being said, they still didn't spend too much time out in the town. Aside from collecting necessary supplies at the market and Sam's occasional jog down Main Street, they really didn't do much. So when Sam suggested they attend a local nativity pageant at the small, non-denominational church in town, Dean was a bit wary.

"Come on, man. It's Christmas! At Christmas, normal people in normal towns do normal things just like this," Sam persuaded.

"Since when have we been normal?" Dean retorted with a snort.

"Since when did you stop wanting to be?" Silence ensued. Dean knew Sam had a good point, but church-y folk weren't always his type. True, many of them were good, Christian people who simply loved God. But there were always the few who only did it for the notability in town or the free one-way ticket to Heaven. Those people tended to be deceitful, prude, and judgemental. Dean had too much experience with those sorts to enjoy churches anymore, but Sam really wanted to go. Despite his is own wishes, he gave in to his little brother.

"Alright, fine. We can go."

Sam smiled. "Awesome. I'll go get ready." Dean sighed and realized that he'd probably have to change into something a little nicer than his usual tee-shirt and canvas jacket.

Dean rummaged around in his less-than-organized closet until he found the flannel shirt that seemed the least damaged. Believe it or not, the plaid shirt had no tears, no stains, no stitches. It even happened to be green and red. Ah, Christmas miracles. He changed into that shirt, his best pair of jeans, and the dress shoes he always wore for his FBI get-up. He even dug out a small bottle of cologne to use. When he was all ready for the night, he gave himself one final glance-over in the mirror. Okay, maybe he could clean up pretty nicely.

That's when he realized the second figure in the mirror. "Hello, Dean."

"Holy shh…" Dean stopped himself and turned to face Castiel, who had flown in beside him. "I really should get used to that, shouldn't I?"

"You're dressed exceptionally formally tonight, Dean," Cas observed, completely ignoring Dean's statement. Dean blinked. He didn't think Castiel knew the first thing about fashion. Seriously, he wore the same outfit every day! Maybe it was only for convenience's sake.

"Yeah, uh, Sam's dragging me to church tonight for some kids' Christmas thing," Dean informed him, plopping down onto his bed and rested his palms on his knees. Castiel remained standing.

"That sounds nice."

"Well, to an angel, I guess so," Dean replied. Cas cocked his head slightly to the side.

"You do not wish to go to this 'Christmas thing'?"

Dean shrugged. "I dunno, man. The religious types don't always like me that much. Hell, a few months ago, I was a demon. We're not too compatible."

Cas responded, "We're compatible. And I assume being an angel is the most religious you could get."

Dean pursed his lips. "Yeah, that's true.. you know, how about you come with us?"

"Dean, I have much work to do in our mis-"

"Yeah, yeah, the mission, I know. But you _did _stop in to check on us, right? Don't you think the world can take care of itself for an hour while you indulge yourself a bit? When's the last time you visited your father's church?" Dean reasoned.

Cas thought for a while. "Many months."

"Which is unheard-of for an angel, right?" Cas nodded.

"So this would be like make-up time. Talk to your dad, watch some kids reenact Jesus' birth, all that jazz." Cas bit his lip and looked down.

"Dean, I..."

"Cas, Christmas is about spending time with family. I'm doing that, Sam's doing that, and you should, too."

"I have very little family left that still cares for me. I have hurt, killed or caused the death many of my siblings. To them, I am now just a leader, a means back to Heaven. I don't have family anymore." Dean stood up in front of his angel and patted his shoulder.

"I've told you once, I'll tell you a thousand times. _We_ are your family, period. Are you coming or not?"

Electric blue met startling green as Cas looked up to meet Dean's eyes. He nodded hesitantly. Dean jumped up and down inside out of joy, but he did not pretend to be unbothered by Cas' sudden insecurity. That was something they'd have to talk about later, he thought, despite his desperate hatred of 'chick-flick moments'.

* * *

Team Free Will arrived early at the pageant, the Impala's deep growl drawing the attention of a few of the churchgoers outside. They were welcomed heartily by the head pastor at the door.

"Well, are you three visiting town for Christmas? I haven't seen you here before," he said, showing them inside.

"No, we, uh, recently moved into town," Sam half-lied, "This is my brother, Dean. And our friend, Castiel. I'm Sam." They each shook the pastor's hand.

"Sam, Dean, Castiel, happy to meet y'all." He looked closely at Cas. "Castiel, huh? Named after the Angel of Thursday, I assume. Were your parents religious?"

"I do not recall my parentage well, but my siblings were all quite so," Cas replied.

"Good, good. Always nice to hear that a child can survive with deadbeat parents, eh? Your brothers must have been mighty fine folk to raise you. You three can take a seat in the pews in the next room. Glad to have you here." When the man finally left to go talk to someone else, the three blew out a collective sigh and took their seats. Cas didn't make eye contact with either brother, nor did he say anything more.

Soon, the pageant started and several children dressed in robes took their places on the stage.

Three older boys with simple headdresses and walking sticks sung about following a star to Bethlehem. Dean was sure he'd never heard _We Three Kings_ sound quite so beautiful before. After they left, the backdrop changed to that of a sandy field with an old barn in the distance. Several children - both boys and girls - entered the stage, all dressed in white robes and dresses, fluffy white wings hanging limply from straps across their backs. Sparkly, silver halos were suspended above their heads from headbands.

They began a medley of several different Christmas songs: _Hark! The Herald Angels Sing, Silent Night, Angels We Have Heard On High _and more.

"I was supposed to be in that choir," Cas whispered to Dean.

Dean looked down at his angel. "Why weren't you?"

"I was too afraid of travelling to Earth. It was my first time; I hadn't even picked out a vessel. I was very young then, only a couple thousand years old. Balthazar happily took my place," Castiel explained, a look of remorseful nostalgia present in his eyes.

"So you could've celebrated the first Christmas with Jesus himself, but you wimped out?" Dean summarized quietly.

Cas nodded, leaning in closer to whisper to his friend, but still focusing on the play. "You could say that. I watched it all from Heaven, but it was not the same. After that, though my superiors often commended my obedience, I was not given another chance to go to Earth until I was sent on the mission to rescue you from Hell. Even then, I was barely allowed to recruit a vessel to stay in touch with you; Balthazar was the one that persuaded Zachariah in the end."

"So the whole 'shattering glass with your voice' thing, and the 'burning Pamela's eyes out' thing, that was all unintentional?" Dean inquired.

"I had hoped you'd be able to hear me without a vessel to channel my Grace through. It would be less hassle. And Pamela forced me into her vision, despite all my warnings," Cas answered.

Dean asked, "Why'd you wanna stay in touch with me so bad anyway? You seemed kinda... Tense when we first met."

"Conversing with angels is quite different than conversing with humans. With angels, I was almost always subordinate, unless I was above the counterpart to whom I was speaking - which was rare. To humans, we were taught to be stern and careful; we could not be pulled into your 'flawed ways'. Though we were all taught to follow Michael's lead, we all knew Gabriel was the best at talking to humans. He was even given the job of revealing miracles to some of the most famous humans: Abraham, Isaac, Hagar, Mary and Joseph. Sadly, he had left the garrison long before he could teach us his ways, ways I now know as emotion and kindness rather than ordering."

"Okay... But you wanted to speak with me specifically because...?"

"Because when an angel's Grace lays hand on a human soul, that human is then forever in that angel's charge. I was your guardian and you were my responsibility." Cas placed a hand over the same spot from which he had gripped tightly and pulled Dean from perdition, Dean's left shoulder. "This is the spot where my Grace fused with your soul. It restored your body to Earth and created an eternal bond between us."

The angel choirs' song ended and was soon replaced by a lone child with a snare drum and a girl dressed as a lamb walked along a dusty path singing _Little Drummer Boy._

"How come you didn't tell me any of that before?" Dean questioned under his breath as the song went on.

"It was not necessary. I didn't at the time, but I believe now that happened to us was my father's plan all along," Cas revealed.

"You mean God actually wanted us to put a stop to Revelations?"

"Of course. Why else would he resurrect me those many times? I at first believed it to be punishment for my fall, but that does not explain why then he saved you and Sam by putting you both on that plane when Lucifer first rose. Perhaps he did not think it to be a suitable time to end Earth, but my eldest brothers refused to listen; Heaven was quite corrupt back then, as you well know." Dean nodded thoughtfully. Everything Cas said made everything make sense in retrospect. "In fact, I have a peculiar sense that we may have been my father in disguise at some point in our travels..."

The both of them were quiet for a while before Cas said, "And to think, all of this started because I was permitted to seek out my own vessel."

Dean looked over at the handsome angel on his side. Cas made a good decision by choosing Jimmy Novak, he thought. He wasn't too hard to look at, at all, He nearly silently murmured, "And what a hell of a job you did choosing one." He really didn't mean for Cas to hear that...

"Is that a flirtation?"

"Um..."

"Look, Mary and Joseph are entering," Cas pointed out, gripping Dean's forearm snuggly. Dean didn't respond.

Two teenagers, a boy and a girl, stood in a dilapidated barn, and over a manger that held a baby boy. Several people gathered around the shed: the angels, the drummer, the kings, and some wandering folk who had heard the angels' singing.

Together, all but Mary and Joseph in the center began to sing _Away in a Manger:_

_Away in a manger,_

_No crib for a bed._

_But little Lord Jesus_

_Lays down his sweet head._

_The stars in the sky_

_Look down where he lay,_

_The little Lord Jesus_

_Asleep on the hay..._

Cas sighed quietly, then nodded toward the smallest angel, who pretended to blow into a horn. "That was Gabriel. He composed much of our music. They say he even wrote this one, then passed it on to the humans when he fled to Earth."

"Man, you really miss your brothers, don't you? Dean asked, noticing the pained expression Cas wore.

"A few of them: Gabriel, Balthazar, Samandriel, Anna. They were the only family I knew for millennia," Cas replied, leaning up against Dean and sighing.

"Yeah, well, Sam and I, we're your family now, buddy. No matter what you do, you always have us dumbasses here for you."

"Yeah, I know," Cas mumbled as the show came to a close.

"Merry Christmas, Cas," Dean whispered, looping his arm around the angel's shoulders.

"Merry Christmas, Dean."


	11. One-Week Hiatus

**(Another) Short Hiatus**

* * *

Sorry for missing yesterday, but it took a crapload of time to write an edit Day 13. Also, I'll be away from my computer for 15 and 16. Sorry.

Please don't kill me (I'm in Advanced Placement)

* * *

Sorry again for the Kevin joke... to soon?

~Gray


	12. Day 19

**So my Google Docs flipped out yesterday and I lost Days 14, 17, and 18!**

**So I hope this helps make up for it :(**

* * *

**Day 19: 'Twas the Night Before Christmas...**

* * *

'Twas the night before Christmas

And all through the bunker,

Sam and I were both sleeping,

Deep in warm slumber.

Knives under our pillows

Were lain with care,

In case if we woke up,

a demon would be there.

We brothers were nestled

all snug in our beds,

While visions of hunting trips,

Danced in our heads.

That previous day,

Hunting had been a blast,

and the last person I expected

that night would be Cas.

Then out in the hall

There was a sound like a flutter

And it got my hopes high,

Though my mind told me better.

And out to the next room

I ran like a flash

To see if, just maybe,

My visitor was Cas.

The Hall had no lighting,

None that I could tell,

And the room had no windows,

I didn't know if snow fell.

Then what did my hunter-trained

Eyes very well see?

Just barely, two blue ones

Staring straight back at me.

They were gone in a blink

With a flutter of wings.

I said "What a weird dream;

I must be seeing things."

Quicker than a wendigo,

Another sound came!

Someone grabbed me from behind

And called me by name.

"Now, Dean, Dean Winchester,

Keep quiet and listen.

I only snuck in here

To keep your present hidden."

And I recognized his voice

The best of all

My assailant was my angel,

The one I caused to fall.

As fast as he'd come,

He once again tried to fly,

And he was gone in a second,

The last in the hall, was I.

So away to the heavens,

My heart, well, it flew.

And with it, my Christmas gift,

And Castiel, too.

And then, once more,

I heard some more sound

And I followed it to the dining room,

To see what it was about.

Next to our Christmas tree,

He set the gift down.

In the light of the fireplace,

I saw him clearly now.

His eyes - how intense they were,

They just screamed his bravado.

His cheeks covered in the darkness

Of his five o'clock shadow.

His smug little smirk was

Drawn up like a bow

And light shined perfectly

Over his figure in that trench coat.

He was shorter and lean,

That familiar old angel.

And I smiled when I saw him,

For he was no stranger.

When he narrowed his eyes

And tilted his head,

I soon realized

I had nothing to dread.

He said only two words,

A short "Hello, Dean."

And then he took a couple

Steps closer to me.

He gave me a quick hug,

But soon pulled away,

Saying, "Dean, do not worry.

I'll be back Christmas Day"

I nodded silently

And he did not hesitate

He said, "Heaven's expecting me;

I cannot be late."

And away he flew,

Disappearing before my eyes.

But I did not worry any,

To me, it was a great night...


	13. Day 20

**Day 20: Early Christmas Gifts**

* * *

There was a flutter of wings and a brief flash of light. In the time it takes to blink an eye, Castiel appeared in his best friend's room... in the middle of the night.

He leaned down to wake the sleeping hunter, who was quietly snoring under his blankets. The sight made Cas smile. "Dean," he cooed, "Dean, it's me."

Dean peeked out of one eye, then groggily sat up, rubbing his eyes as he did so. "Cas... What'cha doin' here?" He snuck a glance at his clock. "S'like... 2 AM or somethin'..."

"I came to give you a small Christmas gift. Without an audience."

Dean sat up a little straighter. "Christmas isn't for another five days," he pointed out, skepticism played out across his features.

"I am aware. But I felt this gift would be better given without many others around. Here." He extended his hand to Dean. In it, a small, black container like a ring box, just slightly bigger.

Dean opened it slowly, not knowing what to expect. The box did not disappoint. Inside was the golden, shimmering pendant on a string of black twine. "Cas..." Dean said slowly, positive that his eyes were deceiving him. "...is this really...?"

"It is the amulet Sam gave you for Christmas as children," Castiel confirmed. "After you threw it away, I went back and kept it."

"Why?"

"Because at first I was still hopeful. I had some questions to ask Chuck about his knowledge of God..." Cas changed the subject quickly, "But I then realized that it was more a symbol of your relationship with your brother than a tool to find my Father. I simply waited for the best time to give it back."

Dean asked, "Why'd you wait 'til now?" He slipped the (as those theatre girls called it) Samulet over his head.

"Your relationship with your brother is now the strongest it's been in years. I had to wait until you were ready to forgive each other." He sat on the edge of the bed so he was eye-level with Dean.

The hunter smiled for the first time in weeks. "Thanks, Cas. I really owe you one."

"It was a gift, Dean. I require no repayment. You have no debt to me."

"No debt? Cas, you pulled me outta freaking Hell," Dean argued.

"You gave me free will when I nearly helped end the world," Cas retorted.

"You're making this incredibly difficult for me." Dean shook his head.

"What do you mean?" Cas replied.

"I want to be in your debt. At least for right now."

Cas narrowed his eyes. "What? Why?"

"Because then I have an excuse to do this." Dean grabbed Cas' coat collar with one hand, his waist with the other, and forcedly scooted him closer, extracting a surprised yelp from the angel. Dean chuckled as his lips met Cas'. It took a second or two, but Castiel finally adjusted and returned the kiss. When the two drew apart for breath, Cas said, "You know, you don't need an excuse to do that..."

"Oh?"

"No. Feel, uh, feel f-free to do that whenever you like... please." And just like that, Dean's flustered, little angel was gone, his absence drawing all warmth from the room. Dean laid back down onto his back and whispered, "Merry Christmas, Cas. Thanks for the gift."

He could have sworn he heard a voice in the back of his head reply, _"Merry Christmas, Dean... you're welcome."_


End file.
